


Children's Work

by ExpressAndAdmirable



Series: The Heroes of Light [55]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types, Final Fantasy I
Genre: Backstory, Education, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Parent-Child Relationship, Slice of Life, Tiefling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2019-03-06 21:03:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13419591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExpressAndAdmirable/pseuds/ExpressAndAdmirable
Summary: Aviva and Esperance go to the opera and discuss the lessons learned from what they saw.





	Children's Work

**Author's Note:**

> Response to the '58. “I will never hurt you.”' prompt from Morgan's player, taken from [this prompt list](https://expressandadmirable.tumblr.com/post/168015863044/prompt-list).

“V, please! Don’t run so far, I don’t want to lose you!”

The girl giggled, skipping a few paces further ahead, and Esperance realised how dearly she had missed the sound. Aviva laughed less and less as she grew from childhood to adolescence; still young by most metrics, she had already seen more than her fair share of hardship and injustice. The fresh welts slicing her palms were the most recent example, and though she had simply adapted to favour the backs of her hands for a few days after receiving her lashings, the sight of them always made her mother’s heart twist in her chest. Damn every teacher in that blasted school.

But tonight had been a good night. More than slightly belated as far as celebrations went, but the Lux women had never been overly attached to where days fell on the calendar. They gave gifts when they could afford them and simply assigned their significance to the most recent occasion, be it a birthday or the Festival or one of the host of silly Cornerian holidays. Tonight’s excursion came a full season after its designated day, due in equal part to Esperance’s overfull working hours and to the sheer price of the tickets. She had refused Mourat’s kind offer to buy them for her; she was not often the type to let pride get the better of her, but gift-giving was a sacred ritual. It would be worth the wait.

From the moment they stepped into the theatre, Esperance knew it had indeed been worth the wait. Aviva’s wide, wondering eyes darted about the foyer, from the gilded statues of angelic Humans nestled in their alcoves to the monochromatic tiled floor beneath their feet to the glittering chandelier overhead. Her delight only increased as they made their way up the flights of wide marble steps to the balcony level, its lobby panelled in rich, dark wood and draped in green velvet. As her daughter stopped to admire the intricate carvings adorning one of the columns, Esperance could not help but wonder what the construction of such a place must have cost – and if they had need of a leatherworker.

When the usher guarding the door stepped aside to indicate their seats, Aviva stopped in her tracks, rendered utterly speechless by the view sprawled before her. She took in the huge proscenium, the rich red curtains trimmed in golden fringe, the painted ceiling, the sheer _vastness_ of the space, her breath escaping in a slow, awed exhale. They had attended plays on the common and occasional productions at the open-topped theatre near the docks, but nothing even a fraction as lavish as this. She did not speak until they had taken their seats, turning to her mother with a radiant, childlike grin. “Mama, it’s… beautiful!”

Esperance smiled and squeezed her daughter’s hand. “Happy birthday, baby.” Then the lights dimmed and the orchestra began to play.

The opera was as magnificent as the trappings surrounding it, with a sweeping score and opulent sets and costumes, a mixture of minor magic and clever lighting tricks bringing the otherworldly elements of the story to thrilling life. The plot was dark and appropriately theatrical, centring on a wraith who haunted an opera house in an unnamed faraway city and fell in love with a beautiful Half-Elf singer who worked there. Embittered by her love for a rich, mortal Human man, the wraith tormented her and wreaked havoc upon the theatre until it was banished during the final showdown between the three leads. For her part, Esperance thought it all a bit melodramatic, but she had to admit it was wonderfully entertaining.

Aviva was enraptured. She watched the events unfold onstage with singular focus, her fingers unconsciously tapping the rhythms of the music on the arms of her seat. Although her injured palms prevented her from applauding at the curtain call, she was undaunted, leaping to her feet and cheering with all her might. For once, Esperance noted with a smile, her daughter actually seemed her age.

As they ambled through the lamplit streets in the vague direction of home, Aviva filled the frigid winter air with an unending stream of thoughts and questions. She liked the female lead’s voice, though her own would likely become too deep to play that particular role. She wondered how they had made the wraith disappear at the end, and if it was magic, whether she could learn to cast it. She hoped Mourat could teach her the central melodies. She wondered if the two lovers really would live happily ever after.

“I do have one big question, though,” she continued, pausing to let her mother catch up and falling into step beside her.

Esperance laughed, glancing at her with a raised brow. “Were none of those big questions?”

“No,” Aviva retorted, then reconsidered. “Well, yes. But this is a for-actual big question. In the scene after the singer ran away from the theatre, when the count catches up with her and does that big grand declaration of love, they kept singing about how perfect it would be. How they were meant to be together. And he kept telling her ‘I will never hurt you’. That was the through-line of the whole scene: that he would never ever hurt her, and so he was better than the wraith – also he was alive, but that’s beside the point. He kept coming back to it. And that’s just… not true, is it?”

Esperance had come to expect deep and far-reaching questions out of the girl, even moreso as she moved further away from childhood, but the specifics of them never failed to surprise her. She let out a puff of mist, folding her arms beneath her heavy shawl. “No. It’s not true. Mortals are clumsy creatures, and sometimes we hurt people, even if we don’t mean to. Even if we love them.”

“Did you and papa hurt each other?”

“Yes.” The older woman’s smile turned wan. She knew it was not the answer Aviva was hoping for, but the girl was far too smart to think it could be anything else. “Your papa and I had our share of quarrels, said our share of unkind things. We never meant to hurt each other, but we did. And… When he left it hurt most of all.”

Aviva chewed her lip, mulling over her mother’s words. “Love sounds exhausting.”

“It can be.”

“I’m not sure I want to fall in love.”

Esperance huffed a soft laugh. “Two problems with that, sweet pea. First, both your parents were hopeless romantics, and you are most definitely our child.” Opening one side of her shawl, she wrapped an arm around her daughter. “Second, love comes in many forms, and they all have the potential to hurt. It’s unavoidable.” She paused, her voice dropping. “Just look at you and me.”

Aviva stiffened, undoubtedly remembering their last big argument. Esperance had certainly spent enough time dwelling on it. Though her actions had come from a place of desperation, a panicked desire to protect and shelter, it had not gone as either of them had expected and she would forever wish she had handled it differently. But, at least it illustrated a point.

Slowing to a halt on the cobblestones, Esperance opened the other side of her shawl, drawing Aviva into the warmth of the fabric and squeezing her tightly. “Ohh, my girl. You’re too clever by half, you know that?” Aviva chuckled into her shoulder. “Always asking the big questions. Growing up so fast.” _Too fast_. She kissed her daughter’s forehead, already so close in height to her own. “Here’s what I know: there’s no such thing as a perfect relationship. Lovers, children, friends… People disappoint each other. That’s part of life. It’s how they move on from it that matters.” It was a lesson as much for her as for the girl in her arms.

“Sounds like an awful lot of work,” Aviva grumbled, but there was a smile hidden in her protest.

“It is, at that,” Esperance nodded. “You can’t un-hurt someone, even if it was an accident. The best you can do is acknowledge the pain you caused. Learn from it, grow from it, try not to repeat the same mistakes. And always, always say you’re sorry.” She breathed deeply, taking in the whispers of snow in the air. “I’m sorry, my love.”

It was not the first time she had apologised for the fight, but the words felt heavier as they left her lips. She had, however temporarily, lost her daughter’s trust, and the circumstances of their lives all but guaranteed it would happen again. All she could do was try her best. Hopefully her best would be good.

“ _Ie'vory xedaj_ , mama.” _You are my calm_. There was no word for ‘love’ in their people’s language, but generations upon generations had managed to get by all the same. They made do. They always would.

Esperance smiled. “I love you too, baby.”

**Author's Note:**

> Title song by Dessa.
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr at @expressandadmirable for a proper table of contents for the Heroes campaign, commissioned character art, text-based roleplay snippets and more!


End file.
